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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27054376">How They Met</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/musiclove915/pseuds/musiclove915'>musiclove915</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Can We Pretend [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Teen Wolf (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Childhood Friends, Childhood Memories, M/M, Mentioned Gerald Argrent, Mentioned Kate Argent, Past Child Abuse, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Underage Drinking</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 20:29:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,642</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27054376</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/musiclove915/pseuds/musiclove915</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>If you asked them how they met, Peter would tell some story about meeting Chris in kindergarten, that they were fighting over some toy. He’d tell a harrowing story of a battle for a toy that ultimately ended with friendship. Throughout the tale, Chris would smile and laugh, adding details since he’d heard the story many times before. It was a wonderful story, and how Peter told it, you could perfectly imagine every detail. After a while, Peter would eventually get up, either to go to the bathroom or to grab a drink from the kitchen. And that’s when Chris would lean forward.</p><p>“That’s not how we met,” he’d say. “It’s a cute story, but it didn’t happen. At least not with me.” He would then lean back taking a breath. “This is how we actually met.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Chris Argent/Peter Hale</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Can We Pretend [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1924174</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>How They Met</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>If you asked them how they met, Peter would tell a story about meeting Chris in kindergarten, that they were fighting over some toy. He’d tell a harrowing story of a battle for a toy that ultimately ended with friendship. Throughout the tale, Chris would smile and laugh, adding details since he’d heard the story many times before. It was a wonderful story, and how Peter told it, you could perfectly imagine every detail. After a while, Peter would eventually get up, either to go to the bathroom or to grab a drink from the kitchen. And that’s when Chris would lean forward.</p><p>“That’s not how we met,” he’d say. “It’s a cute story, but it didn’t happen. At least not with me.” He would then lean back taking a breath. “<em>This</em> is how we actually met.”</p><p>***</p><p>There was something to say about being alone at a house party. Sure, Chris had known everyone that was there, he’d grown up with them, but he was known for two things that made it hard for him to make friends. His mom was dead, and he was an Argent. So, in either case, he was fucked.</p><p>He’d heard about the party at school. It was big news since it was a fellow freshman who was throwing the party. That honor was usually strictly reserved for the upperclassmen who looked older and could get beer better than a freshman ever could. But none of them knew just how much liquor the Whittemore’s had and just how popular David was. He’d even announced it at lunch, standing on a cafeteria table like a god, inviting everyone. Chris heard about it later since he didn’t eat his lunch in the cafeteria, and if he did it was to avoid his twin sister, Kate.</p><p>That was another reason he’d gone to the party, knowing that Kate would never go, so she couldn’t get him in trouble. Chris snuck out, something he’d been doing more frequently as the school year went on. Some nights he’d just sit on his roof and think, or escape from the pain his family inflicted on him, and on rare occasions, he’d walk around the neighborhood sometimes even going so far as the park a few miles from his house. That night, he snuck out again and started the long walk to the Whittemore house near the edge of town.</p><p>Hanging out in the kitchen seemed like the safest place to be. Most of the other people would only be in there for a few minutes to refreshen their drinks. Every so often, they’d look at him, confused as to why he was there, but as the night went on they were drunk and didn’t care about the lonely kid.</p><p>“Who invited him?” Chris heard someone finally voice what everyone was thinking. The alcohol had let people’s filters fizzle away. He had to scoff; David had invited everyone. Instead of saying anything, he took a long drink of his soda, not being brave enough to put any alcohol in, knowing at that moment he’d overstayed his welcome. Hopefully, his father and sister were asleep, or he was going to where he’d been.</p><p>“Oh, shut up, Ashley,” a voice cried out. It was strange to hear someone come to his defense that Chris took a moment to figure out who had.</p><p>“Hale,” David, who was surprisingly sober, growled, “what are you doing here? I thought I told you to stay away tonight.”</p><p>“Is that what you said?” The fake innocence was laid on thick. “I thought you were inviting me over when you talked to me. Either that or you were looking for a blowjob. We know how tight-assed your girlfriend can be.” Just to hammer the point home, Peter winked.</p><p>David’s face grew red with anger. “Get the fuck out of my house, Hale. Now.”</p><p>Peter smirked; he knew he’d gone too far but he didn’t care. “Whatever you say, Davy.” He then grabbed Chris’s wrist. “C’mon new kid.”</p><p>Chris was too stunned to talk, just being dragged along by Peter. New kid? Did Peter really not know who he was? Was he drunk?</p><p>They made their way to the front door; Peter would even push people out of the way to get outside.</p><p>“Well, that was fun, wasn’t it?” Peter had a grin on his face.</p><p>“You have a lot of gall, Peter,” David said startling Chris. He didn’t realize they’d been followed out.</p><p>“It was a joke, David.” Peter sighed, turning back towards the house and letting go of Chris. “You know, like I’m gay or like you aren’t getting laid.” David looked murderous. “I was joking.”</p><p>“No, you weren’t.” He closed his door to give them the illusion of privacy. To look menacing he cracked his knuckles.</p><p>“What are you gonna do, David, hit me?” David’s eyebrow twitched like that was exactly what he was going to do. “Okay, hit me.”</p><p>“Peter,” Chris warned. He knew what a hit felt like, and it wasn’t something that someone should ask for willingly.</p><p>“C’mon,” he said moving forward, seeing if David would take the bait, “I bet you have a lot of pent up energy you’d love to release.” Like a flash, Peter was on the floor holding his cheek. “What the fuck!” David smirked as he shook out his hand. Chris ran over to check to see if Peter was okay. “I thought you were gonna punch me in the stomach.”</p><p>“Wanted to knock some sense into you.”</p><p>“Well, next time aim higher.”</p><p>“You okay?” Chris asked looking to see if there was any damage.</p><p>“Yeah,” he said knocking Chris’s hands away. He then looked at David who was checking his own hand for any damage. “So are we good now?”</p><p>“Yeah,” David sighed.</p><p>“So, can I go back to the party?” David’s neutral face was all the answer he needed. “Okay, can I at least get some ice for my face?”</p><p>“Yeah, you can.” He started to turn but stopped. “You wanna come back in, Chris?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Peter bounced up and ran to the door, “let’s party it up, new kid.”</p><p>“’New kid?’ Peter, that’s Chris Argent. We’ve all been in the same classes since kindergarten.”</p><p>Peter regrated Chris, even squinting to get a better look at him. “I guess he doesn’t make much of an impression.”</p><p>David smacked him upside the head. “Don’t be rude.” He then looked at Chris. “You coming or not?”</p><p>“Don’t be rude,” Peter mocked. Neither of them paid him any mind.</p><p>“I should get home,” Chris said, even though he wanted to stay. David nodded. Peter stared. Not knowing what else to say Chris turned to leave.</p><p>“You know, I’m gonna take a rain check on that ice.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“A rain check—”</p><p>“On the ice, I heard you. You can’t rain check ice.”</p><p>“Well, I am. I’m going to make sure Chris gets home okay.”</p><p> David didn’t say anything as he watched Peter race towards the other boy. He then rolled his eyes and went back to his party.</p><p>“Hey,” Peter said when he caught up with Chris, “so you’re Chris?” Chris nodded. “How come I’ve never noticed you until now?” When he shrugged, Peter groaned. “Dude, you have to work with me here.”</p><p>“I don’t know,” he said, he only wanted to get home so his father wouldn’t beat him, “maybe you’re a self-centered asshole.”</p><p>He was surprised by that response, but the growing grin showed how much he liked it. “Maybe I am. So, Chris Argent tell me about yourself. And don’t shrug.”</p><p>“There’s not much to say.”</p><p>“Of course there is. What are your hobbies?”</p><p>“I don’t have much.”</p><p>“Dude, everyone has hobbies. Do you like to draw?” Chris didn’t respond. “Sing?” Again no response. “Practice witchcraft?” Nothing. “C’mon,” he whined.</p><p>“I used to paint.”</p><p>“Paint!” That was too much excitement for Chris, who started walking a bit faster. “Great. Why’d you stop?”</p><p>“My mom died.” He just wanted the conversation to end. And mentioning his dead mother usually did the trick.</p><p>“Oh, yeah,” Peter said slowly. It sounded like that was the end, but then he started up again. “Did you paint with her?”</p><p>Chris stopped. No one ever wanted to continue. They’d just say ‘sorry’, like that did anything, and went away. “Yeah, I did.”</p><p>“Why’d you stop?”</p><p>“My dad.” From Peter’s expression, he wanted an explanation. “He threw away the paints and brushes and…”</p><p>“The paintings?” Chris gave a slow nod. “Dude.”</p><p>“I saved a few. The ones that mean a lot to me. But I couldn’t save them all.” He then sighed as he continued walking. “And eventually, he’ll find those and destroy them too.”</p><p>“I can keep them for you.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Well, if they’re not in your place, your dad won’t be able to destroy your mother’s paintings.”</p><p>“Peter, you don’t know me. You can’t just offer something like that.”</p><p>“Why not?”</p><p>“Because you don’t know me,” he stressed. What the hell was his problem?</p><p>Peter jumped in from of Chris and stuck his hand out. “Peter Hale. I have an annoying older sister, and two loving but overbearing parents. I’m the school’s pariah because I’m the only openly gay student. And because I’m gay everyone thinks I’m a freak.” He said all that like it was a speech he’d prepared just for a situation like that. Chris looked at the hand like he didn’t know what to do. Peter looked at him, waiting for his introduction.</p><p>“I’m Chris Argent,” he said slowly. “I live with my sister,” <em>who’s psychotic</em>, “my dad,” <em>who beats me almost every day</em>, “and…” <em>I’m nothing.</em> “I have to go.”</p><p>“Wait,” he grabbed Chris’s arm, who pulled away in pain. That concerned Peter until he looked down. Chris knew what he was looking at. He could feel his shirt pulled to the side and exposing the bruises. Peter opened his mouth, but Chris never heard what was said, instead, he ran away like he normally did.</p><p>***</p><p>“That <em>is</em> how we met,” Peter was leaning against the doorframe.</p><p>“Peter,” Chris was startled by him.</p><p>“Why’d you always let me tell that other story?”</p><p>“It’s a good story.”</p><p>Peter smiled, extremely proud of himself. “It is, isn’t it.” Then he started to think. “Then who did I fight with?”</p><p>“John,” Chris laughed.</p><p>Throwing his head back, he laughed too. “That’s right. But we didn’t become friends then.”</p><p>“No, you hated each other for years. All because he got a toy taken away.”</p><p>“He broke it,” Peter quickly remarked. “We both got into trouble, but that bastard told everyone <em>I</em> broke that toy when he was the one who did it.”</p><p>Chris was very amused at Peter’s passion for a toy from over thirty years before. “I’m sensing some deep-seated resentment over a toy. I have the number of a really good therapist if you want to talk to someone about that.”</p><p>“Shut up,” his cheeks reddened. “So how did we become friends with him?”</p><p>“You really don’t remember?”</p><p>“No, Chris, I’m asking to further the plot. Yeah, I have no idea.”</p><p>***</p><p>After getting back from the party, Chris figured he would get in trouble, but nothing happened. Neither his father nor sister said anything about it. He was just woken up early when his father went to church. But other than that it was relatively peaceful. A few days later, and it was Monday. Chris was sitting by himself as usual at lunch, even braving being alone in the cafeteria.</p><p>Someone clearing their throat broke Chris from his thoughts. He looked up and saw Peter standing there with a food tray in his hands.</p><p>“Can I sit down?” The usual confidence he always had was gone. Chris just stared at him, hoping if he was silent long enough that Peter would leave. “Look,” it wasn’t going to work, “I figured, you have a whole table to yourself and I need somewhere to sit, so why don’t two pariahs sit together.”</p><p>They stared at each other. The uncomfortable silence dragged on. Peter was starting to gather unwanted attention just standing there with a tray still in his hands. He was about to leave when he heard Chris.</p><p>“You can sit.”</p><p>Peter complied quickly, still getting some attention since he was sitting in the cafeteria instead of outside like he usually did. He began to eat, picking up what he thought was mac and cheese but was actually tasteless mush. He grimaced at the food not wanting to eat anything else if it all tasted like nothing. Chris took pity on him and slid the fries he had over. Peter looked at them before looking at Chris.</p><p>“They’re the only thing worth eating here,” he explained.</p><p>Reaching out for one and eating it, Peter was impressed. It wasn’t great by any measure but at least it tasted like food. They ate together silently each going their own way when their lunch period was over. And each day after that for the next two weeks it continued exactly like that. Even when Chris didn’t eat in the cafeteria, Peter would find him and they’d share French fries, each switching off who’d buy them, never saying a word. Chris never asked why Peter was there, and Peter said anything about the new bruises that would or appear or the slight limp Chris had for a few days. And then it changed. It was Peter’s turn to get the fries when John Stilinski pulled up a chair next to him.</p><p>"I noticed you’ve been hanging out with Peter.” Ricky Matthews was hesitant to sit down as well but did seeing that John was probably going to take a while. He even pulled out his own lunch knowing his best friend wouldn’t shut up about Peter Hale. Chris nodded looking at his two classmates (well, technically one since John was in the same grade as him while Ricky was a year ahead of them) wondering why they were there. “Well, I just want you to know that he lies.” Ricky rolled his eyes. “And be breaks things too.”</p><p>“Dude,” Ricky said with his mouth full of food, “are you going to talk about—”</p><p>“He broke that toy!”</p><p>“Do you even remember what toy it was?”</p><p>“No,” John muttered. “But it’s the principle of it!”</p><p>A tray slammed down on the table; a few fries scattered from the impact. “What are you telling him, Stilinski?”</p><p>“Hale,” John snarled. “Just telling Chris here what a lousy friend you could be. And how much you like to break things.”</p><p>“I did not break that toy, John. You did, and you know it.”</p><p>“Did not.”</p><p>“Did too.”</p><p>“Maybe you two should just kiss and make up,” Chris said out of nowhere. It shocked him that he’d said anything.</p><p>But hearing Ricky try to hold in a laugh made it better. He looked over at the two arguing and saw Peter disgusted by the prospect and John smirked.</p><p>“I like you, Chris. You have a great sense of humor. Like I’d ever kiss Peter.” They looked at each other and shared a grimace.</p><p>Little did they know that two years later they would kiss. It was an accident; they were high and Peter thought Chris was on his left and not his right. They laughed it off at the time but later when they were both sober John punched Peter in the arm for ‘putting the moves on him’.</p><p>That was how Chris went from eating lunch alone to having three other people sit with him. And it quickly became four when a few days later Talia joined the group.</p><p>“Little brother,” she said taking a seat next to him, “aren’t you gonna introduce me to—”</p><p>“No, he interrupted, “go away.”</p><p>“To your friends, Peter.”</p><p>“No, go away.”</p><p>Talia didn’t. Instead, she looked around the table. John and Ricky were both staring at her, their mouths slightly open. She liked being appreciated like that. Then, she turned to the last person at the table. Her grin widened.</p><p>“Talia Hale,” she put her arm around her brother’s shoulders, squeezing him slightly. “The best big sister in history.” Peter rolled his eyes at that.</p><p>“Chris Argent.”</p><p>“I know,” she then took a handful of their fries. “Only thing worth eating in this place.” John and Ricky both scrambled to push their own fries towards her. Peter rolled his eyes again.</p><p>From that day on, much to Peter’s annoyance, Talia kept sitting with them, her own friends would join every so often but she continued no matter what.</p><p>And then one day, months later:</p><p>“PETER HALE!” David bellowed outside the cafeteria. Moments later he threw open the doors and everyone could see what happened. He was completely cover and dripping in neon pink paint. And even through the paint, everyone could see the pure fury in his face. He quickly scanned the room and when he found Peter, he stocked forward. John and Ricky had their fists in their mouths muffling their laugher. Talia was trying to not smile. Peter was deeply confused and what was happening. Chris was just as confused but David was standing in front of Peter like he was going to pound him into the ground.</p><p>“So, David,” Talia said still trying to suppress her smile, “finally decided to join the pink team?” The boys started to laugh, well three of them did Chris just smiled and then realized someone had taken a seat next to him. Melissa Delgado just sat there as if she had been there the whole time.</p><p>“This is gonna be good,” she whispered to Chris who was then confused for a completely different reason.</p><p>“No, but I’ll be adding red when I kill Peter.”</p><p>“Okay, let’s end this,” Ricky said still chuckling.</p><p>“What?” John sputtered. “C’mon it’s hilarious.”</p><p>“Yeah, not when Peter’s going to get beat up for something we did.”</p><p>“You two did this to me?” David yelled advancing on them.</p><p>“Hey, it’s not our fault,” John explained the closer David got to them. “That prank was meant for that ass Finstock. He’s been annoying us for a while now so we were gonna plant that in his locker. I guess we’d gotten yours mixed up with his.”</p><p>David nodded like he was taking it all in. Then he grabbed both of their heads and knocked them together.</p><p>“Dude,” Ricky whined.</p><p>“I should beat you two up for that, especially since his locker is on the other side of the school, dumbasses.”</p><p>“What? No, I know for a fact his locker’s near yours.”</p><p>“Why do you know where David’s locker is, John?” Melissa asked.</p><p>“Because I needed to know who was near so we’d warn them about the prank.”</p><p>“You never said anything to me.”</p><p>“Blame Ricky. He was supposed to do that.”</p><p>“What? No, I wasn’t. I got the paint and opened the locker; you were who was supposed to warn everyone.”</p><p>David rolled his eyes. “So you’re just proving that you two really are dumbasses. Good to know. So after Finstock was covered in paint, what was the plan afterward? Let him walk around all day like this?”</p><p>“No,” Ricky said reaching for a bag under the table, “we’re not monsters. Here.”</p><p>“We stole some of his clothes from him a while back,” John said, which didn’t make any sense to the others. “So they’ll be a little baggy on you.”</p><p>“When’d you get these?” David said pulling out a shirt.</p><p>“After he was in gym class,” Ricky smirked. David immediately dropped the shirt. “Don’t worry we washed them.”</p><p>“Again, not monsters.”</p><p>David grimaced as he picked up the shirt, he looked at it questioning why that was life. And why he had to go to school with people like John, Ricky, and especially Peter fucking Hale who was becoming the bane of his existence. So much so, when he passed Peter, he punched him in the arm as hard as he could.</p><p>“OW! What the hell was that for? I didn’t do anything.”</p><p>“You laughed,” he growled as he walked away.</p><p>A few days later, all seven of them pulled the ultimate prank on Finstock involving paint, feathers, and glitter. That was the first prank Chris had ever pulled and even getting caught and the school’s punishment was worth it.</p><p>***</p><p>“I wonder if they still talk about that prank,” Peter had been laughing so hard it was like he was gasping.</p><p>“Don’t know, we’ll have to ask one of the kids.” Chris smiled, that was a memory that was bittersweet for him, but he still loved talking about it. “Hey, Peter? Can you get me a drink?”</p><p>“Sure, a beer?”</p><p>“How about a mixed drink.”</p><p>“You sure? It’ll take a while.”</p><p>“That’s okay.”</p><p>“I’ll probably make it too strong.”</p><p>“I trust you.” Peter sighed and got up, kissing Chris as he left. After a few moments, he spoke again. “That was when Gerald learned of my friendship with Peter. He was pretty pissed knowing that I was hanging out with Peter, at the time, the town’s only openly gay student.” He paused, a sad smile on his face. “He nearly beat me to death. Claimed he was beating the ‘gay’ out of me. Whatever the hell that meant. I had to miss a week from school. I said I’d gotten sick, and none of my friends said anything about it. But I could tell Peter knew. He always knew. But in the end, I guess jokes on him, I’m bi.” His smile became happy. “And with Peter.”</p><p>“What about me?” He asked coming back with a drink in his hand.</p><p>“That I get to be with you, and kiss you whenever I like.” He grabbed the drink and did just that. “So that’s how we really met.”</p><p>Peter chuckled. “Anything else you want to know?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Yay! Coming back to this universe. Man, I missed it. This story was a bit of a weird one for me since I  a completely different plan for it, even including it in my 'Melodramatic Musical' story's but then I just couldn't get inspired to write that story, though most of it stayed the same, and I started again and came up with this. I hope this gives a little more insight into the universe I had created for these stories. I have a few more stories that connect planned, one of them is a wedding, and one exploring Derek and Stiles's friendship and relationship too since I felt like I didn't do anything with that in the main story.</p><p>Okay, that's enough rambling, like always thanks for reading and if you have any prompts you'd like for me to write, you can ask on my Tumblr (musiclove915) or my Twitter (@musiclove9151).</p></blockquote></div></div>
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